


The Only Adam Driver Fic You'll Ever Need

by VoidVesper



Category: Logan Lucky (2017), Marriage Story (2019), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, While We're Young (2014), girls - Fandom
Genre: Adam Driver Smut, All Adam All The Time, Birthday, F/M, Gömböc, Humor, Mary Sue, Rough Sex, Satire, Sexual Fantasy, Silly, Topology, adam driver obsession, face crushing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:35:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25297012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidVesper/pseuds/VoidVesper
Summary: It was Mary Sue's birthday and her friend got her a present."Oh, look," she said. "Here he comes now."TW: bone-dry satire, discussion of Hungarian mathematics.
Relationships: Adam Driver/You
Comments: 10
Kudos: 20





	The Only Adam Driver Fic You'll Ever Need

It was Mary Sue's birthday and her friend got her a present.

"Oh, look," she said. "Here he comes now."

Just then Adam Driver came lumbering up the sidewalk. He was wearing a tuxedo, or jeans and a leather jacket, or whatever your deal is.

"Hello, Mary Sue," he said warmly.

Mary Sue took him in: the major appliance Clydesdale-ness of him, the rich chocolate-colored thatch of ear-mitigating hair, the beauty marks that spangled him like he'd been kissed by the melanoma fairy. His face had the beautiful inconsistency of a Gömböc, the convex three-dimensional shape as first conjectured by the Russian mathematician Vladimir Arnold and prototyped by the Hungarian scientists Gábor Domokos and Péter Várkonyi in 2006. Its visage rocked unceasingly on the flat plane of her heart like it, too, was trying to reach its one stable and one unstable point of equilibrium.

Maybe he's wearing Kylo stuff. That's a deal too.

"Oh, Adam," breathed Mary Sue. "What do you have for me?"

Adam said nothing as he took off that fedora that he wore in that Ben Stiller movie that is probably someone else's deal. He flexed the knuckles of his un-amputated hand and, with the warmest smile that ever came out of Mishawaka, Indiana, put his whole hand over her face and held on like he was clutching a basketball that could be turned into a diamond if squeezed with enough pressure. She dropped to her knees and licked the salt from his palm.

"Now I must go," he said tenderly.

"Oh, my exquisite recombinant DNA experiment of Richard Gere and Marilyn Manson, why must you leave me?"

Adam straightened his Marines uniform. "I'm needed elsewhere. So many birthdays today. In five minutes I have an appointment to raw dog someone in the parking lot of a Chik-Fil-A before I run them over with my Ferrari. Then I've got to train someone to do their job at Hot Topic but then just fuck them silly in the stock room while the music they liked in 1998 plays in the background. I've got women to bite and kick and choke and spit on and whisper sweet nothings to while I grab them by the hair and fuck them up against a wall using my penis which is probably huge if you've ever seen my hands."

He kissed her chastely on her forehead, which was now deeply engraved with his palmistry creases.

"Adieu," he whispered.

Then he stripped off his black or maybe it was dark blue sweater with a hole in it and ran naked down the street.

"Oh, Adam," she wept bitterly, but she knew in her heart that now he had finally done that thing where he grips her face like a basketball (why the fuck do I even _want_ that? Does that make _any_ sense?) she could now let her brain unclench and use those neurons to win the Nobel Prize or whatever.


End file.
